Browsing through today's Guardian I lingered over the queries answered by the Agony Aunt (who demonstrates a splendid mastery of the comma in para 2).
Question Should I go to my school reunion?
Lucy Think about who is going to be there. A group of people for whom the heaving, hormonally-soaked morass of cliques, secret political machinations and occasional armed skirmishes in the playground were the best days of their lives and who are seeking to recreate them for one last evening. And a second group for whom school was a waking nightmare and who are going back only to lord it over their one-time tormentors by talking loudly and incessantly about their children/bank statements/double garages/holiday homes.
That is not a fun evening, even before all the old patterns re-emerge, rising from the depths of your brains like ancient rocks from the sea bed, against which your sophisticated adult selves will quickly dash themselves to pieces. Clinging to the wreckage will be the tiny, vicious bully or whimpering victim you thought you had killed off years ago, battered by the freezing and unforgiving seas of self-knowledge.
So, I should say, on the whole, don't go.
Does this sound like Old Blues Day?
NO! but I perceived a tiny flicker of familiarity quivering in my unconscious .
"whimpering victim"
"Baldrick, you wouldn't recognise a cunning plan if it painted itself purple, and danced naked on top of a harpsichord singing "Cunning plans are here again.""
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